


One More Autumn For The Road (with podfic)

by SarahJaneS



Series: September Smut Challenge [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Heavy Angst, Homelessness, M/M, PWP without Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahJaneS/pseuds/SarahJaneS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel struggles to get by homeless and as Steve. Seeing Dean again, all he can do is wonder why his friend turned him away.<br/>This is the last installment of the September Smut challenge. Thank you for reading!<br/>You can listen to the podfic (done by yours truly) right here:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://sjcosplay.podomatic.com/entry/2015-10-01T20_06_48-07_00"> HERE </a></p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Autumn For The Road (with podfic)

When Metatron cast him from heaven, he suggested in the most jovial way that Castiel enjoy the adventures of being a human. Too bad he didn’t give Cas any choice in the matter. He never would have given up being an angel. 

He learned from the beginning how hard it was to be a human. No money, no resources, and this never ending need for sustenance. His goals were driven though. He just had to get back to Dean and he would be alright. Dean would take care of him and they would work together to figure everything out. 

But that was not what happened and Castiel learned his first lesson about being human. That you can’t rely on your friends when you need them the most. 

He hated what he had become. Not only being human, but even before that when he was an angel. He despised himself for the decisions he had made, so he tried to cling to that when he gathered the few things he owned and Dean cast him out the door. Back into the cruel unforgiving world to be hunted unrelentlessly by his own family. 

He kept thinking that he deserved this. He deserved this. 

So he managed to build a life. He drifted, worked odd jobs for cash in hand, and ate when he could. He never again took a hand out from a stranger, not knowing if they were a reaper like April was, and he tried to avoid interaction with other humans as much as possible. 

It was lonely. He was lonely. But every night he looked up to heaven and prayed that maybe someone could find it in their heart to forgive him. But heaven was empty. Only Metatron resided there now. 

He counted himself fortunate to find Nora. She didn’t ask many questions, overlooked the small bag of belongings he tried to hide every morning, and paid him in cash so he was able to feed himself. It was enough to get by. Castiel should have been happy for that, but being a human did not yet show him the adventures Metatron promised it would. 

He wanted to see Dean. Often at night, when he laid under the dry stock shelves in the back storage of the Gas n Sip, Cas would think about him. He would wonder if Dean thought about him in the same way. Probably not. Now that Castiel was human, he was useless to Dean. He was discarded and forgotten. In those dark nights where his stomach growled with food only inches away that he wasn’t allowed to touch, Cas learned what it felt like to cry. 

When he saw the story in the newspaper, his first reaction was to call Dean. As soon as the phone rang, he immediately regretted it. When Dean answered after the first ring, Cas thought about hanging up. But Dean would just call him back. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Nevertheless, he continued on as he originally planned and told Dean about the bodies that he read about in the paper. He hoped Dean would dismiss the case. Cas was thrilled when he did not. 

That night he took his earnings for the day and rented a motel room. It was almost all he had earned in one shift, but he had saved a little and was able to make do in the way of sustenance. 

Locking himself into the room, he stripped away his clothes and walked into the bathroom where he dipped his head under the hot stream from the shower. He supposed it was pride that drove him to take these measures. When he saw Dean he would be clean and shaven. He would at least try to look as though he wasn’t struggling. 

In the morning, he had a hard time getting out of bed. It was the first time he had ever rested comfortably as a human and he thought that this would be how he would feel every day if Dean hadn’t sent him away. The thought stung and Cas wiped at his eyes. 

He knew Dean was coming, but he told himself that it meant nothing. He probably wouldn’t even find Castiel let alone come in to speak with him. The motel was a luxury Cas could ill afford and shouldn’t have wasted his money on. 

But then he looked up from his register, and suddenly Dean was there. Smiling casually and with such a tenderness in his eyes that Cas couldn’t comprehend why Dean ever sent him away. It hurt. It hurt more than laying on cardboard in a back room and wishing for what he could not have. 

“Hey, Cas,” he said as though nothing changed between them and Cas wanted to punch him. He wanted to scream at him. He wanted to hurt Dean to show him a glimpse of this never ending agony he has been enduring. But all he did was stare. 

Of course Dean was there for the hunt. Not for Castiel; not to mend what was torn between them, and yet when he asked Cas to come along with him, Cas complied. He could not fathom why. He hated Dean. He hated both the Winchesters for turning their backs on him. And yet, he could not say no to him. 

It was for the best he went. It turned out he could still be useful after all. He explained how an angel was involved, what that angel’s presence meant, and Dean smiled at him like he used to. Back when he knew he could depend on Cas and when Cas was actually worth something. 

Dean offered to get him dinner, but Cas informed him that he had a date with Nora. He didn’t care about the date. He didn’t even think about the possibility of things advancing the way they did with April. But to see the way Dean’s smile twitched a little, and turn into something artificial, made Cas feel a little stab of satisfaction. He told himself that he liked hurting Dean, even though it hurt him twice as much to do it. 

Let them both suffocate each other with their misery. At least they would be together again. 

Dean was kind enough to drive him, but he didn't speak the entire way over. Cas glanced at him occasionally. He was a moth and Dean a distant light that he was never able to reach. Cas was drowning in the hurt inside of him. 

Nora lived farther than he anticipated. He didn't know how he would have gotten there on his own. He thanked Dean, it was the least he could do, but really he just wanted to be as from the car and it's haunting memories as quickly as possible. Let him return when he was useful again. Dean had no reason to keep him otherwise. 

But for some reason, Dean suddenly turned friendly again. Offering advice on how Cas should act, how he should look. And when Cas worked open the top button of his shirt under Dean's direction, that old thrill jolted through him the moment their eyes met. It was nostalgia surely. There was nothing between Dean and him anymore. 

Nora was out the door an instant after Cas walked through it. He was just glad Dean had already left so that he couldn't see it. She could have been clearer on her intentions, surely, but regardless Cas knew better all along. He had nothing to offer anyone. Not Dean, not Nora, and with the last of summer slipping into fall, he should be grateful for a few hours of warmth at least. He regretted leaving his vest in Dean's car. He would have to call him again to retrieve it. Otherwise the cost of a new one would be taken from his pay and Cas just couldn't afford that. The realization stung at his eyes; burned in his chest. It pulled from him all the self loathing and hurt and anger that he had been feeling for weeks, and turned it into a beacon for Ephram to find. He should have expected it. Prepared for it. But when Ephram said he wanted to heal Cas of his humanity, Cas seriously considered it a viable option. 

And why not? What did he have? No one to trust. No one to turn to. No one who cared. No one who loved him. 

But the will to live overcame his misery and he rose up to fight back. In the heat of the moment, somehow Dean returned to him. And even when Cas was able to kill Ephram, proving to himself he wasn't as useless as he thought, Dean remained. 

Nora returned, and Cas was grateful to no longer hold the responsibility of her child in his hands. He could barely take care of himself. 

Dean offered to take him home, and then he asked where Castiel lived. Cas didn't know what to say. He bit his lip and looked to the sky. He wanted to just vanish from existence for a while. 

He thought perhaps that Dean wouldn't notice if he asked to be taken back to the gas station. Maybe he would assume Cas just had to pick something up there or he had to work a late shift, but no amount of showering and cleaning could take the hand washed rumpled look out of his shirt or the way he had a haunted edge to his eyes. Dean understood right away. 

"I can't take you back there. Not tonight. Come stay in the motel with me. It's warm there." Cas was ashamed that he did not object. He was never really warm anymore, and with autumn nipping at the night air, he would have to ration money to afford a coat. 

They took the drive in silence, Dean's music making up for their lack of conversation, and all too soon they pulled into a backwoods motel where the keys to the rooms were not made of plastic. 

"I'm taking a shower," Dean announced once inside, and Cas kicked off his shoes before sliding under the covers of the unoccupied bed. Dean must have gotten a double out of habit. 

Cas wondered how much the room had cost him. Things he never bothered to acknowledge as an angel. It was a much nicer place than the one he could afford the night before. 

When Dean re-emerged, shirtless and damp from his shower, Cas averted his eyes. He didn't want to think. To imagine. To feel. 

Dean pulled open his duffle and retrieved a bottle out of it. Amber liquid sloshed within. 

"Kind of reminds you of the good old days, doesn't it Cas?" Dean asked and he popped open the lid to swig at the contents within. The last thing Cas wanted to think about was the good old days. He pressed his face against the pillow and willed himself to go to sleep. 

Cas listened to the swish of liquid as Dean continued to drink but his mind drifted back into that dark place. If only he were still an angel. Dean wouldn't have sent him away. Dean would have still wanted him the way that he used to. 

"I'm sorry you couldn't stay," Dean said suddenly and Cas opened his eyes. Dean sat at the edge of his bed, bare chested and leaning against his knees. His eyes looked glassy from his drink but he stared at Cas; stared through Cas in a way that made him feel lightheaded. "It must be so hard for you out here." 

Cas didn't speak. What could he possibly say? That yes, it was hard? That he was angry and hurt and felt so very alone? Sure, he could say that and more but it would just hurt Dean again. Cas did not find hurting Dean as satisfying as he had hoped. 

Dean reached out , offering the bottle he held for Castiel, and sitting up, Cas took it. The drink burned inside him. He hadn't eaten since that morning and the alcohol lingered as a ball of heat in his stomach. He drew from it again, appreciating the warmth it provided, then handed the bottle back to Dean. 

"I miss having you around, Cas," Dean did softly and Cas wanted to scream. Then why did you send me away? Why did you leave me alone? You were supposed to be my friend! He wanted to lash out with words and fists and strike at Dean until there was nothing left inside of him. Until the pain all leached away and made him as empty as the vessel he inhabited. 

But Cas suddenly realized that this was all he had left. Without his anger, without his pain, there was nothing to him anymore. The thought made him start to cry. 

"Hey, come on, don't be like that," Dean said uncomfortably, but Cas turned away. He didn't want to look at the concern in Dean's eyes. He didn't want to think Dean cared. It was a hell of a lot less confusing to convince himself that he didn't. He rolled over, facing his back to Dean, and pressed tears into his pillow. 

"Cas, there are bigger things than the two of us going on here. I have to take care of Sam. I wish I could take care of you too." 

"Just go to sleep," Cas whispered and hated how his breath caught around his sobs. Truthfully, it was not uncommon for Cas to drift into sleep this way. Exhausting himself with his tears. This was just the first time anyone else had seen it. 

Cas didn't expect Dean's hands on his back, so the sensation made him jump a little. 

"Don't think that I don't care about you," Dean said as he slid into the bed behind him. Cas squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sudden desperate need bubbling up inside of him. He should tell Dean to fuck off. It was a language he would certainly understand. 

"It would be easier if you didn't." 

If only he was strong enough. He should send Dean away the way he had done to Cas. He should get out of that bed, scoop up his shoes, and retreat out into the streets that were his only home. It would not be hard to do. 

But Dean was wrapping his arms around Cas and pulling him closer. His nose nestling against the nape of Cas's neck. And oh, the warmth of his body sang to him. 

"I always wanted to lay with you like this," Dean said, his voice low and smooth, "so many things I regret not doing." 

Dean was drunk and his words were cruel. Cas didn't know that the hurt he was feeling could get any worse until that moment. 

"Just stop talking," he said through his tears, and gave over to the moment. If he could pretend this was a dream; if could pretend that he imagined the way Dean's hand slid up his chest to brush the tears from his cheeks, maybe he could not hate himself so much for giving into it. 

Cas turned, rolling to face Dean once more, and looked sullenly up into his deep green eyes. He was surprised to see that Dean was crying too. 

"You're beautiful, Cas," he whispered, and then leaned in to brush his lips against Cas's forehead. Cas's mouth opened, but he couldn't find words to say. Should he spit venom or sing praises? His heart swelled, souring the taste of his anger and he knew; even after all the pain of struggle of the past two weeks, he still loved Dean. 

His one hand curled against his chest, pulling at the shirt over his heart, while the other reached out with tentative fingers to touch Dean's face. Dean leaned into the touch, letting his eyes drift shut against the contact, and he hummed deep within his throat. It was all the consent Cas needed. 

He craned his neck, and brought his lips to rest against Dean's. He was not experienced in this, but Dean received him with a passion Cas was not expecting. Lips parted, tastes mingling and colliding, but everything was so bittersweet. Where would it end tomorrow? Not with Dean taking him home. Not with his life getting any simpler. 

Cas drifted away, his mind suspended in the night sky, and he sat up to look down at the man he once thought would never turn his back on him. Dean stared back at him with such wanton; such need, Cas could not comprehend why he had not seen it before. All these years. Time wasted between them. Slowly, he pulled off his shirt. 

Dean was on him in an instant. Rising up like a phoenix, he burned tiny kisses into Cas's skin. His tongue trailed over ribs, fingers scraping gently against his tattoo, and Cas moaned. He couldn't help it. Under everything; the betrayl, the hurt, the anger, the despair, he still pulsed with a thick white need to take Dean. To love Dean. To be that person that Dean thought of late at night when he laid in his bed and fought to find sleep. 

"I want you," Dean whispered against his skin and the vibration of his lips rumbled all along Cas's nerves. He felt Dean inside him in ways he never could as an angel. This was the way things were supposed to be between them. This was how the story was supposed to end but never would. 

It didn't matter anymore. Cas already decided what course he would take. And when he leaned over to pull Dean's pants over his hips, he knew it was far too late to change his mind. 

He didn't know if it was the kissing or the longing that made Dean hard but Cas liked to know that he was able to have that effect. Even as a human, powerless, useless; he could do this much for Dean. 

He did not hesitate when he brought Dean's length to his lips. He drew him in; sucking hard until Dean's hips rose off of the bed. 

"Cas!" Dean said, the word light and holy on his exhalation. Cas ignored the way his heart twisted to hear it. Instead he drew Dean deeper, pulled him closer, and worked his mouth hungrily over him until Dean burst forth with a moan. Cuming and trembling, he laced fingers into Cas's hair and recited his name over and over. 

Cas would not stop there. 

If Dean wanted him, even for just a moment, let him have all of Cas then. He rose, and worked open the fly and zipper of his pants. Dean stared at him, wanting this to happen but also fearing it. Cas shed his clothing. Kicking articles of cloth to the side, and reached for Dean, guiding him onto his stomach. 

"I never did this before," he said, muttering the words into his pillow, and Cas understood. He bent low, languidly working his hips against the mattress to hold his erection while his tongue licked Dean open. 

Dean writhed beneath him. The words coming out of him, Cas's name commingled with countless expletives, made Cas smile. He almost felt like he used to. When he was an angel of the Lord and Dean would gaze upon him with both awe and longing. He felt like he still controlled something in this world even if the control was fleeting. 

Cas dipped fingers into his mouth, moistening them with his saliva, and then pushed the first one inside of Dean. Dean groaned long and loud as his body pushed back against the intrusion. But Castiel was vigilant. He slid closer, letting teeth and tongue dance along Dean's shoulders, and when Dean turned to look at him, Cas captured his lips. The second finger followed. 

The kisses were slow and heady while Cas worked him open. He didn't want to hurt Dean, not in this way. Even as he ached and burned and tormented inside, he longed to make Dean worship him again. To love the human as he had once done with the angel. He worked at Dean with a third finger, pushing and coaching him to relax while his body lazily rutted against his hip. 

"Cas, I'm ready. I'm ready," Dean said and then groaned when Cas's fingers withdrew. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed in concentration, and Cas wondered how much of this was Dean wanting Cas and how much of it was Dean not wanting to let go. 

Cas trailed soft kisses along the nape of Dean's neck and laid on top of him. With a slick of spit against his palm, he ran his hand over his cock and pushed himself inside. Dean grunted through his teeth and twisted his hands into the sheets but he didn't tell Cas to stop, and so Cas slowly worked himself further in. 

Dean's hands reached up, laying trembling fingers against Cas's shoulder and he turned to nuzzle Cas's cheek. The act was so intimate and endearing that Cas could feel the tears well up in his eyes once more. All he could think as he slowly began to rock his hips against Dean was why? Why were things like this between them? Why was he out here alone and in the cold when Dean obviously still cared? Could he possibly hope that Dean had changed his mind? Was this a sign of things to come between them and tomorrow Dean would insist he gather up his things to bring him home? 

Cas wanted it. More than anything. More than even this moment they shared he wanted to be by Dean's side again. But there was no promises of that. Dean and the night and the sex and the moment was all he was given and so it would be what he would take. 

Dean relaxed enough that he no longer tensed with each thrust. His jaw unclenched and his mouth fell slack as his breaths burst out of him in short rapid puffs of air. Cas pulled out of him, laying on his side long enough to push Dean to roll onto his back, and then he coaxed Dean to open his legs up to him. 

Dean flushed, seemingly embarrassed by the new position, but Cas didn't care. If Dean wanted him, let him see Cas as he took him. Cas worked himself back inside and the effort was much easier this time. More quickly rewarded. Dean lifted his legs into the air, adjusting the position, and suddenly he was crying out. Moaning so loudly that Cas was certain people would be able to hear him outside, and the flush in his cheeks spread over the rest of his body. 

"Yes! Cas! Right there! Don't stop! Don't stop!" And so Cas didn't. He drove into Dean, a steady rhythm that burned the muscles in his thighs and caused his arms to quiver, but he did not stop. He knew when the end was coming. It was not the surprise it had been with April, and yet the build up was so much greater, the plateau longer and richer than anything he had felt before. It almost felt as though he could fly again. 

And when Dean reached down, grabbing at his dick and jerking his own release over his stomach, Cas came undone. His orgasm rocked him so hard that his vision swam black. He collapsed, panting and spent from the effort that he didn't even register the way his slick skin clung to Dean's. 

"Cas. Fuck. Okay we need a shower," Dean said and pushed at Cas's shoulders but Cas didn't move. He wanted this moment; this brief fleeting instant, to be suspended in time and last for an eternity. When he died, when he truly died, this would be his heaven. 

"Dean... let me come home with you," Cas said before he knew the words were even forming. Dean's arms slid over Cas's shoulders and he hugged himself against Cas while his lips trailed the cords of his neck. 

"Soon," he said at last but Cas could hear the lie in the word. "I just have to get some things worked out with Sam." 

Cas's heart sank, but he wasn't surprised. He pulled away from Dean and drifted into the shower. After a few minutes, Dean joined him. This was always the way it was between them. Galaxies colliding in the night. They would get so close but then instantly drift away. Whatever it took to avoid a supernova. 

When Dean feel asleep that night, Cas stayed awake and watched the softness in his face. Dean looked content and Cas wanted to believe it was because he was there. His fingers trailed over Dean's palm as tears forged paths down his cheeks. Tomorrow, he would be starving and homeless. Tomorrow, he would be Steve, a drifter who worked under the table at a shit hole gas station. But tonight he had Dean. Cas would take that, and add it to the few things he still had in this world. 

Perhaps one day, it will be worth something. 


End file.
